


Undying Love

by rumpledspinster



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Horror, Not Really Character Death, Spooky, Torture, claustrophobia tw, not really buried alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:13:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledspinster/pseuds/rumpledspinster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the one year anniversary of Belle's death Rumple receives a visit from someone he had thought to be lost forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Canon divergent from about episode 3:20 “Kansas” Belle makes Rumple verbally promise that he won’t kill Zelena. Rumple decides that without her magic, he can take his time plotting revenge so that it can be achieved in a roundabout way and thus he can keep his promises to both Bae and Belle. During that time, Rumple and Belle are married at the well by Archie. Belle wants time for her and Rumple to decompress before going on a honeymoon, so she insists on Rumple going to counseling with Archie; Rumple grumbles at first, but he can’t argue that having been imprisoned and tortured for nearly two years hasn’t left him emotionally scarred.  
> Meanwhile, Zelena is becoming desperate having been sure that her failsafe of being killed by Rumple would allow her to make her trip back in time, yet his vengeance is nowhere in sight. She overhears that he has married Belle and decides she must act quickly and rashly if she is to get what she wants. She makes a daring escape from jail and manages to kidnap Belle. Having lost her magic, she tortures Belle the traditional way and does a thorough job of it because her plan hinges on Rumplestiltskin’s rage. When he doesn’t show up as quickly as she would’ve liked, she leaves her farm house of terror to draw his attention only to be gunned down by Hook. Since her plan hinged on being killed by magic, the very non-magic bullet kills her and if this were Monopoly she would not pass go and would not collect $200. So, no time travel invasion of the pod Marrion.)

Chapter 1

“Belle!” Rumple was wild with panic and burning with rage. Where in this house of horrors was she? As Rumple frantically searched his foot caught on a rug revealing a trap door to a cellar. He quickly wrenched the door open and peered into the darkness below. “Belle!”

Rumple scrambled to find a light switch as he made his way down the cement steps. Finally, his fingers brushed across the switch and the dank cellar was illuminated with fluorescent light. The floor of the cellar was covered in blood stained plastic and the walls were covered in insulation, apparently an attempt at sound proofing. As Rumple reached the bottom step Belle came in to view. A bed frame that sat up vertically against the wall had been fashioned into a torture rack and Belle was tied to it with coarse hemp rope. Blood dripped from her raw rope burned wrists; she was bloodied and bruised from head to toe. Her feet had been left to dangle and gravity had pulled her arms from their sockets.  
“BELLE!” Rumple shouted like a wounded animal as he quickly magicked the restraints away and caught his mangled beloved in his arms. He whimpered as Belle’s eyes rolled in their sockets struggling to focus.

David’s voice came from the stairs, “Zelena is dead and an ambulance is on the way…” David’s voice died away as the scene unfolding revealed itself, and retreated back upstairs and into the house.   
Belle’s eyes finally landed on Rumple. His face once full of anguish and pain was now full of steely determination. He found himself unconsciously casting a spell to will her body to heal itself, but the damage was so extensive that he feared her soul would flee her body before the process was complete and once her soul was gone she would be lost to him. It was that worry that led him to remember a binding spell, very ancient and rarely used. His Dark One memory provided him little background on the spell, however it did tell him how to cast it. He began to summon his magic, whispering the incantations over his beloved. The magic covered her like a second skin before sinking into her body. He hoped that the spell would keep her alive long enough to allow the healing magic to repair the damage done to her body, but to his utter despair her breathing continued to slow and her irregular heart beat stuttered to a stop. “No, no, no…” he whispered the word over and over as he clutched Belle to his chest and rocked her back and forth. 

Belle was declared dead on arrival at the hospital. She was buried on a dreary October afternoon. There were only a few people in attendance, Rumple didn’t want a grand memorial service. He didn’t want his grief on display, nor did he want people’s saccharine coated condolences. 

Belle was laid to rest next to Rumple’s son Neal. Though the two of them had barely had a chance to be family, Belle had been more of a mother to him than the woman who had birthed him. Rumple was sure that Neal would approve of the shared final resting place.

The following year had been incredibly difficult. Rumple still hadn’t done anything with Belle’s things. He left the room they shared just as it had been the last time she had been there. He took to sleeping downstairs in a guest room. He avoided music. He didn’t watch television or read. He no longer collected rent in person, relegating that job to the more than capable Mr. Dove. He had tried to lessen his pain by spinning, but it didn’t help completely. Most nights he simply sat in near catatonia staring at nothing, eyes unfocused and mind empty. 

As the first anniversary of Belle’s death approached, Rumple decided to plan a getaway to the cabin. Rumple knew that the anniversary would be especially hard, but he hoped that the change in scenery might help. He felt that her essence was thick on the house and its objects, whereas her time here at the cabin had been limited. He had packed relatively light, some clothes, towels, basic necessities, and a box of food. Once at the cabin he busied himself in an effort to keep his mind from wandering down darker paths. He swept, dusted, and wiped down every surface. He unpacked and tucked away everything he had brought with him. When his work was done he looked to the clock and saw that it was just after 8pm. Outside of the cabin’s window the forest was eerily illuminated as the full moon’s light reflected on the low fog creeping across the forest floor. All was quiet save for a gentle breeze that rustled fallen leaves in to a ballet of movement. 

It occurred to Rumple that he hadn’t really eaten all day, so he set about making dinner. He made a sandwich and a pot of tea. He found that the first bite felt ashen in his mouth and that swallowing it was physically trying. He pushed the plate away in disgust. What was the point in eating? What was the point of anything?

Unbeknownst to Rumple a solitary figure was stumbling toward the cabin in the grim moonlight, dirt dropping from her clothing with every step leaving a dark trail of grave dirt in her wake. The wood of the cabin’s porch creaked under her weight as she approached the door. Seeing light within, she raised her dirt blackened hand and knocked on the door with skin split knuckles. 

Rumple was pulled from his darkening thoughts by a knock at the door. For a moment Rumple just stared. No one knew he was out here or would much less care enough to check in on him. He crossed the floor and opened the wooden door to peer through the screen. Staring back at him was Belle’s face, stark and pale with wide eyes rimmed in dark circles. He held his breath. 

He didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare blink for fear she would disappear like all the other waking dreams before, but as he really looked at her she appeared more as a waking nightmare than a dream. Her hands were filthy and bruised, blood oozed out of cuts around her knuckles and along the edges of her dirt encrusted nails. Her dress was muddied and torn, and hung off of her in tatters. Her knees were scraped and blackened with dirt and blood. And her face! Her eyes were large in her gaunt face and looked… haunted. Her hair was matted and dripping with dirt as it framed her dirt smudged face. Rumple felt as if his body was on autopilot as he opened the door for her and she shambled inside. She turned to face him, now better illuminated, and bathed in the warm lights of the cabin. “Belle?” his voice was tentative, but the tone of hopefulness was apparent. 

Belle stared at him with her wide red rimmed eyes. Her lips began to move as if to speak, but did not open. Terror flashed in her eyes as she frantically and forcefully began to pull at her lips with her filthy hands; prying them apart with her ragged dirty fingernails. At last her lips began to part, the glue that had held them shut giving way as the delicate skin of her lips began to split and tear. Her lips free of the glue she began to gag. She probed her mouth with her dirt covered fingers and stained wet cotton began to pour forth. Her cheeks sank somewhat, now freed from the cotton that had once plumped them. Her chest began to heave as she gasped for air with out of practice lungs. Rumple simply stared at her, his face colored with horror. Belle allowed her breathing to slow before attempting to speak. Her voice came out as a quiet rasp. “May I have your tea?” she motioned to his forgotten mug. 

Rumple felt as if the world had gone sideways as he hurried to his feet (when had he fallen?) and scrambled to the table, quickly handing her the tea with shaking hands. She reached out for it with her own stiff, clumsy hands and raised it to her lips. She poured the entire cup down her throat in one big gulp. “More?” she asked in a slightly less raspy voice. 

Rumple grabbed the tea pot and shakily poured her another, which she downed just as fast. They continued this routine until the pot had been drained of all but the dregs. Then they simply stared at each other in awkward silence. Finally, Rumple found his voice, no more than a gasping whisper, “You were dead.” 

Belle gazed at her dirt darkened self, eyes settling on her injured hands, “I think…I still am.” She confided in a sorrowful whisper.

“No.” Rumple’s voice was his own once more, strong and reassuring. He took her hands into his own and showed her where blood was weeping from her shredded nails and split knuckles, “You are alive. Blood flows through your veins. See?”

Belle looked down at her hands in his. Suddenly her posture stiffened. She looked deeply into his eyes, “Did you do this?”

“No,” he answered ardently shaking his head, but she began to move away from him with a deeply wounded look in her eyes. As she began to pull her hands from his he held tight, falling to his knees as she pulled away. He couldn’t bear for her to move away from him. He could feel life returning to him just from her nearness. Her voice, her bright blue eyes, even the little jump of her pulse on her neck and the feel of it on her wrist made him feel whole again. She couldn’t leave him, not again, not ever. 

Belle’s gaze fell on his face and noticed his tears and look of dread. Her expression became one of sympathy. “I’m going to take a shower. I’m coming back.” Rumple released his grip on her and collapsed onto his knees, his hands falling to his lap. Her voice was reassuring and rang with truth, but as she pulled away from him he began to gasp for air as panic gripped his chest. He surged forward tripping and scrambling on hands and knees for her. She stopped and turned toward him as he seized upon her hand and began to kiss it tenderly. Her skin felt cold beneath his warm lips and her split knuckles tasted of wet soil and blood, yet he wasn’t put off. In fact, he ached to pull her down into his arms. To feel the solid weight of her in his embrace and to feel the beating of her heart with his lips on her neck. 

Belle grasped his hand and helped him to his feet. Her expression was sorrowful and full of worry. “Would you…do you want…to…help me? It’s okay if you’re disgusted.”

How could she think he would ever be disgusted with her? He knew her offer was more for his benefit but he eagerly nodded all the same. They both entered the bathroom and Belle glanced at her reflection in the mirror, but quickly turned away. Rumple noticed her apparent dislike of her reflection. “I can take the mirror down.”

“Please,” she answered quickly with a tremored voice. She began to shiver somewhat as Rumple quickly took the mirror down and stored it away in a coat closet. He returned to her side as quickly as he could. When he reached the bathroom he saw Belle looking down at her dress and running her hands over the rich fabric. “I don’t recognize this dress.”

“I made it for you. To be…” buried in. He had almost said it. But Belle didn’t seem to notice, she was too focused on the feel of the fabric in her hand. 

“It’s beautiful,” her voice was on the brink of tears, “It’s ruined now.” Her body shuddered as tears began to stream down her face. 

“Oh! Sweetheart, don’t cry! Please, please…” his voice was frantic as he pulled her into his embrace. He rubbed her head and whispered calming nonsense into her ear. “I’ll make you a new one. I’ll make you one every day if you like.”  
She finally calmed and he unzipped the back of her dress easing it off of her shoulders. She held the dress to her chest a look of discomfort on her face as she turned and asked, “Could you turn around for a moment?” Rumple’s face conveyed his confusion as he processed her request. It then occurred to him that perhaps she thought he would find the sight of her unpleasant. He thought to reassure her with soothing words, “Sweetheart you don’t need to hide from me.”   
Belle backed away from him slightly, “I know, but…I…they…” Belle sighed, “Okay.” She turned away, her back facing him she reached down and pulled out the cottony plug that had been placed into her vagina tossing it into the waste bin before removing the one from her rectum and disposing of that as well. She quickly crossed her arms in an ‘x’ across her chest, gripping her shoulders tightly with her fingers. Before turning around and avoiding the momentary look of shock on Rumple’s face. Rumple quickly returned to an expression of concern and caring as he wondered at her current state of modesty, but then decided she must be freezing and rightfully so. 

He took the hand held shower head down and ran the water until it was very warm. Belle then stepped into the tub and sat down, still holding tightly to her chest as if she were afraid she might come apart. 

Muddied water and old blood streamed off of her as he gently sprayed the warm water over her. As the water began to run clear he filled the tub with what was left of the hot water. As she sat in the water, color began to return to her skin. He began to scrub her hair and scalp with his shampoo and found that the smell of it calmed and relaxed him. He felt as if his scent on her would mark her as his. He felt as if he was reclaiming her from the earth. Her hair finished, he lathered a soft cloth and began to wash her back. He noticed her tight grip on herself begin to relax exposing the large ‘y’ incision she had been hiding on her chest. His breath hitched at the sight of it. 

Belle heard the change in his breathing. She began to claw at the stiches on her chest in disgust in an attempt to rip them all out. She began to sob and tears streamed down her face a new. The stiches began to pop and red wept forth from her chest.   
“Stop!” Rumple grabbed her wrists and held her tight as she struggled and fought to free them. Her chest began to heave as she began to hyperventilate, her wet hair and back soaking his shirt. “Shh, shh…” Rumple held her tight to him and continued to whisper calming susurrus in her ear. Her heaving sobs continued as Rumple rocked her from side to side, but his grip on her wrists remained strong until he finally felt her begin to calm.

“Take them out Rumple. I want them out. I need them gone.” Belle’s voice was pleading and desperate.

“Okay.” Rumple’s voice was just a whisper. “Let’s get you clean first.” He continued to wash her until not a trace of dirt or blood remained. He even scrubbed under her nails with a brush. Neither of them spoke as he helped her out and dried her off. He wrapped her in his robe, helping to guide her arms through the sleeves before tying it at the waist. He ran his brush through her hair, easing the tangles out before guiding her to the bedroom. She lay down on the bed without being asked as he retrieved a pair of scissors. “You must tell me if it hurts,” his voice was firm. She simply nodded and opened the robe. As Rumple had bathed her he had noticed that the wounds she had suffered at the hands of Zelena had healed and faded to light scars. It had given him hope to see signs of healing, but now as he gazed upon her naked form laid out before him, her ‘y’ incision in clear view, he remembered that there had been an autopsy. His grief at the time of her death was so great that he barely registered any of the questions or papers he was asked to answer or sign. It wasn’t until later that he realized he had given strangers permission to slice into her, to remove her organs and replace them like giblets in a store bought turkey. He felt bile rise up into his throat as dread gripped his heart. He had to know. “Belle…do you remember…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish.

Belle knew what he wanted to ask and took pity on him. “It was like a nightmare. I couldn’t make my eyes focus. They simply stared unblinking and unseeing. I could hear a little, but the sounds were muffled and unintelligible. I could feel the cold of the steel table and the cold blade of the scalpel slicing my flesh. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable. But the trapped feeling…that was terrifying. I felt empty.”

Rumple shuddered. “So…you weren’t in pain?”

“Not then. The pain came later.” Her voice was cold, like that of a graveyard confession. 

Rumple’s blood ran cold. He didn’t want to know any more. Didn’t want the picture in his head, but he needed to know. Better for him to know the truth than to let his imagination fill in the blanks. “Tell me,” his voice wavered, “please”.

“You don’t want to know,” her voice carried deep sadness in its tone. 

“Please” his voice was firmer and more insistent. 

She looked away from him and stared up at the ceiling. She took a breath and spoke. “I continued to feel trapped. As if my soul were imprisoned. I couldn’t see. I was in darkness. Time lost meaning, until my senses returned to me. There was pain then. It was so intense. It was as if I could feel my body struggling to mend bone, reweave torn apart muscle and flesh, all the while I remained trapped in a rotted body. For a while I thought…” her voice trailed off. 

Rumple knelt by her and held her hand, “What did you think?” apprehension clung to his question.

“I thought… I must be in hell.”

“Oh gods Belle,” his lips trembled and tears glistened in his eyes as he fervently kissed her hand. 

Belle took a deep breath and continued. “But then I woke up. It was still dark, but the darkness was different. At first I was confused, but then I realized where I was.” She shuddered and grasped the quilt beneath her in fisted hands. “I had to get out,” Belle began to hyperventilate again.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s alright now. You’re safe.” Rumple held her hand, rubbing the top with his thumb. Belle’s breathing began to slow.

“I punched and clawed. Finally, the lock on the coffin gave. I worried they might have encased me in concrete. I was relieved when dirt began to stream in. I…I just kept digging, clawing toward the surface. I had to escape. Once I was finally free of the ground the only thing I could think of was getting the dirt and death off of me. I remembered the direction of the cabin and made my way here.”

“Oh Belle.” Rumple pressed his forehead to her hand as tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t bring himself to break physical contact with her. She was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

“Rumple…what happened to me?” Belle closed her eyes and squeezed Rumple’s hand.

“I’m not sure love, but when I found you in that cellar…you weren’t healing fast enough. The magic needed more time. I… I cast a binding spell.”

“What did you bind?”

“I had to keep your soul grounded. Once a soul has fled the body and passed through the veil the life is lost. I… I bound… your soul.” Belle’s breathing began to hitch. Rumple’s lip trembled. She would blame him for what had happened to her. She would begin to despise him. It was more than he could bear. No, no, he had to explain. “I thought it would keep you alive! I didn’t know it would do this! Please believe me when I tell you that I had no idea… I thought… you were dead Belle! You have to believe I would never have left you to dig yourself out alone.”

“My bones.”

Rumple was confused by her words, “What?”

“You bound my soul to my bones. You tethered it to my bones. That’s why I felt trapped. You imprisoned me in my bones.” Belle stared up at the ceiling unseeing. Her voice had sounded haunted and it scared Rumple. It shook him to his core to think that despite her being here with him, she might still be lost to him.

Rumple tried to speak, but Belle spoke first.

“You said you would remove these.”

Rumple looked down at Belle’s ‘y’ incision, it appeared healed, even in the places Belle had ripped earlier. Rumple supposed there would be no harm removing them. There would certainly be less harm than letting Belle claw them out.   
It was a baseball stich, so Rumple undid the stiches as one might undo a shoelace. As he loosened the thread he looked at Belle’s face. She looked as if she may never be happy again. Rumple felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart by an ice pick. “Does this hurt?”

“I can barely feel it.” Belle’s voice was flat. 

Rumple removed the stiches as fast as he could. He noticed her flesh begin to heal as soon as it was freed from the thread. His magic was still at work within her. It would not leave her until its task is complete, until she is whole.  
The thread completely removed, Rumple quickly retrieved the soft cloth from the bathroom, dampened it with warm water and gently cleaned up the small amount of blood and dirt that had been trapped under the thread. He urged her to sit up and refastened the robe around her. Belle’s stomach growled. Rumple brushed the damp hair from her face with gentle fingers. “Let’s get you something to eat love.” 

Belle wrapped her arms around his neck and held him in an embrace. He held her back, burying his nose in her hair and breathing deeply of her scent. Her stomach growled again, louder this time, urging Rumple to break the embrace. He led Belle to the kitchen and sat her at the table. He pushed his sandwich in front of her, “this will tide you over ‘til I make something more substantial.” Rumple turned and grabbed some ingredients from the fridge, when he faced Belle again the sandwich was gone. Belle was shoving the last of it into her mouth like a wild animal.

“I’m sorry,” she replied with a full mouth.

“It’s alright love. I suspect your stomach was completely empty. I’ll be done with dinner before you know it. Rumple put two steaks in a buttered frying pan to cook, and placed two potatoes in the microwave to bake before beginning to make a salad.   
Belle watched as if in a trance. He sat a plate of salad in front of her giving her something to eat while dinner finished. She decided to forgo a fork and instead began to push handfuls of lettuce and vegetables in her mouth. When she had finished she motioned for something to drink. Rumple gave her a glass of water. She gulped it down like a man who has crossed the desert. “May I have more tea?”

“Of course sweetheart.” Rumple put the kettle on full of water and measured tea into the waiting tea pot. At this point the meat and potatoes were done. He plated the food and then quickly cut Belle’s food into bite sized pieces and spread some butter over her potatoes. “This is hot love, so you must try to eat it slowly.” Belle nodded and grasped her fork in her somewhat stiff hand. They both ate in silence. 

When the meal was done Belle stared at her empty plate. Rumple was about to ask if she was still hungry when she spoke.

“How long was I gone?”

“A year today.”

Belle nodded. She looked resigned. She glanced down at her hands. She marveled at how they were healed. There weren’t even scars. She pulled the robe open slightly and looked down at her chest, the incision was barely visible, just a thin faded scar. If she tried, really tried, maybe she could pretend…no. “I can’t…”

“What is it sweetheart?” Rumple was at her side in an instant concern plain on his face.

“I can’t… feel.” She whispered her voice small and pained.

Rumple caressed her cheek with his hand. She placed her hand over his and could almost remember how his touch used to excite her, how he could make her come alive. 

“It will come back love, have patience.” Rumple turned her face toward his and touched his forehead to hers. 

Belle thought she could almost feel him, sense his spirit reaching out for her. She focused on the small sensation of warmth. She willed it to intensify until she felt as if her blood were molten. She began to shake, wave after wave of tremors shook her to her core as her nerves reawakened. She cried out as the pain was becoming too much.

Rumple was terrified. All at once Belle had begun to shake uncontrollably and cry out in pain. Rumple didn’t know what was happening. He pulled her into his arms and lifted her out of the chair. He carried her to a nearby couch and sat with her in his lap held tightly to his chest. He rocked her back and forth as he began to cry. “Belle, please. I don’t know what to do. Please be alright. Please, oh gods, please!”

All of a sudden Belle slumped in his arms. She was so still, for a moment he worried… but no she was breathing and he could see her pulse jump in her neck. He continued to hold on to her. “Belle, wake up love. Please, please wake up.”  
Belle lay unresponsive in his arms. He continued to rock her and focused his attention on her warm weight in his arms. No one would take her from him, not even death.

Nearly two hours passed before Belle opened her eyes. She stared up in to the face of her sleeping beloved. She reached up and touched his cheek, he instinctively held her closer before opening his eyes and scanning the room for some unseen danger. Belle began to see just how hard her… absence had been on him. “Belle! You’re awake! Oh gods I was so worried,” he nuzzled her hair allowing his tears to flow freely.

“Shh, love. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.” All of a sudden urgency overcame Belle, “except to the toilet.” Belle moved to leave Rumple’s lap, but he simply picked her up and carried her to the bathroom.

When she had finished they returned to the couch and Rumple magicked a fire in the fireplace. He held her close, not content to ever be apart from her. Belle stared at the fire listening as it popped and crackled. “What if I came back wrong?”

Rumple pressed frantic kisses to her head. “No sweetheart. No. You’re you. You never left love. Calling back a long fled spirit, trying to bend a person’s essence to your will corrupts it, but your soul never left. Oh sweetheart! I should’ve known! I should’ve suspected. I should never have let you out of my sight. But I promise Belle, I promise I will never leave you again. I’ll protect you. You’ll always be safe.”  
Belle curled into him. His embrace felt safe. He was with her. She was no longer alone. 

“Will my soul always be trapped?”

“I don’t know love. I will have to research the binding spell, but I promise you, you will never have to endure what has happened ever again. I won’t allow it.” His voice was assured and full of confidence that eased Belle’s worries.   
When the fire went out they headed to bed. Rumple made to turn off the lights. “No!” Belle shouted, startling Rumple and stopping him in his tracks. “It can’t be dark. Not ever!” Belle was panicky and beginning to breathe in rapid, shallow gulps. 

“Shhh sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ll leave the light on.” He retrieved a flash light from the side table’s top drawer. “Here love, you can sleep with this as well.”

Belle took the light gratefully, holding it to her as a child might grasp a security blanket.   
“You’re staying with me right?” Belle’s voice was still laced with apprehension and fear.   
“Yes, of course love. I’ll not leave you.” Rumple stripped to his boxers and climbed in bed. Belle immediately clung to him as a drowning man might cling to a piece of wreckage.   
“My darling I am with you. Rest and be at ease.” Rumple’s voice and presence soothed Belle, and exhausted she drifted to sleep. Some hours later, Belle began to moan and squirm in his embrace.   
“No, no, please, please…” Belle’s moans intensified, her hands were tight fists and tears began to run down her face.   
Rumple was awake now and recognized that Belle was having a nightmare. “Belle, sweetheart. Wake up love.” He shook her gently, then slightly firmer.  
Belle screamed and nearly jerked out of Rumple’s embrace.  
Rumple held her tight. “Shh, you’re okay love. You’re alive, you’re safe, I’m here.”

She still looked like a trapped wild animal, but as Rumple continued to speak she began to calm. Silent tears began to trail down her face. “They tore me apart. They emptied me out, and I screamed, I begged, but they wouldn’t listen, they couldn’t hear me.” Belle was sobbing on to Rumple’s chest and he felt his heart may literally tear itself in two at the sight of her. 

He held her close until she began to calm. “It’s over now love, you put yourself together again. You always put yourself together again, my brave girl. You are so strong. My brilliant girl. You came back to me. You fought, you didn’t give up. Your soul is so bright and beautiful dearest. My sweet, wonderful Belle. I’m here. You’re safe.” Rumple rubbed her back as he spoke. She calmed and clung to him. He held her back and waited for her to pull away.

“Will I ever feel okay again?” Belle’s voice sounded sad and defeated.

“Yes my love,” he replied fiercely placing a kiss on the top of her head, "you helped me with my nightmares, and I will help you with yours. We will battle each other’s demons together."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rumple would have liked to stay at the cabin indefinitely, but he supposed they would have to return to their pink Victorian eventually and they had run out of provisions, so the time had come. 

Belle rested her head on the cool glass of the passenger side window of their black Cadillac, watching as the once familiar town of Storybrooke came in to view. It looked the same and somehow that made it all the more unsettling for her. The buildings and people existed as they always had, yet she was irrevocably changed. She felt like a stranger.

Rumple had chosen the evening to return home and was thankful that the streets seemed to be fairly empty. Belle was not ready to be around people yet. She suffered from night terrors every time she fell asleep and would break down in tears suddenly. She needed more support than he could provide, and Rumple would make sure that she got it. 

They arrived at the pink Victorian and were welcomed by the sight of Dr. Archibald Hopper standing next to his car parked in the drive. Belle grabbed Rumple’s arm at the sight of him. Rumple continued to pull into the driveway, “I called him Belle. You need someone to talk to about everything you’ve been through. He’s a good man. I’ve come to value his help over the last year, and… we need him.” Belle bit her lip in apprehension, but nodded all the same.

Dr. Hopper had been relieved when he received a call from Mr. Gold. They had been making strides in their meetings, even coming to the point where Mr. Gold allowed him to call him Rumple in private, but as they approached the anniversary of Belle’s death Rumple had begun to slip back into the depths of depression and Archie worried that they would lose some of the progress they had made. He had told Rumple to call him if ever he needed to talk, and certainly before doing anything life altering, but even as Rumple nodded Archie had suspected that Rumple wouldn’t reach out. And yet the call had come. 

Rumple’s voice had sounded muffled on the phone, “Archie, I need your help.”

Archie was on red alert at those words. “Are you safe? Do you need me to stay with you?”

“I’m safe. I… well, I can’t talk about it over the phone. I’m at the cabin now, but I’m heading home tomorrow night. Can you meet me at my house tomorrow about eight?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you Archie.”

Dr. Archibald Hopper went white as a sheet as he saw what looked like Belle Gold sitting in the passenger seat of the black Cadillac that had just parked on the drive next to him. He stood stock still as if frozen by the gaze of Medusa herself until he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder. 

Rumple turned Archie to face him and placed his hands firmly on the man’s shoulders, anchoring him to the spot. “Yes, it’s Belle. She’s alive.” Archie began to stutter incoherently. Rumple struggled to find the words that would explain everything. “She’s not some monster. She’s Belle, and she needs you. Archie, she’s been through… she… she was buried alive. She had to dig herself out, and that’s after all the torture and terror she suffered at the hands of Zelena. She needs more help than I can give. Please, Archie.”

Archie could hear the sincerity in Rumple’s voice and see the pleading in his eyes. Archie took a deep breath. This was what he had dedicated his life to. People in town would roll their eyes at him and his profession, but Archie took pride knowing that he helped people become the heroes of their own lives. He supported them as they tackled their demons and felt joy as they learned to create light in the midst of their personal darkness. Rumple was right to call him, Belle was going to need support to learn how to live past her experiences and Archie couldn’t leave them to flounder on their own. Archie nodded at Rumple and turned back to where Belle sat in the car. He smiled warmly and waved to her. She sucked in her lower lip in anxious apprehension and opened the car door. 

Archie offered his hand to help Belle out of the car, careful to give her space. He didn’t want her to feel cornered. She needed to feel that she had control of her own body and choices, and so he waited for her to choose whether or not to take it. He could see her think about it for a moment as she looked at his out stretched hand with his palm facing up, then she took a deep breath and placed her own small hand within it. Archie helped her out of the car and with Rumple leading the way, into the house. 

The three of them took a seat in the front room. Belle looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time, letting her eyes drag slowly over the contents. Rumple broke the spell of silence with a hand upon her knee. “I haven’t changed anything. Everything is the same as it was. Your clothes, your books… it’s all just as you left it.” Belle nodded and closed her eyes as she tried to fight the silent tears that had begun to pool at the corners. Rumple looked as if his heart was breaking at the sight, “Oh Belle, tell me what to do to fix this.”

Archie was sitting in an armchair watching the couple on the couch carefully. He leaned forward, “Belle? Would it be all right if you and I talked alone for a while?”  
Belle looked up from her lap. She looked at Archie and nodded silently. 

Archie looked to Rumple, “Rumple, perhaps you could make us a pot of tea? That way Belle and I get to talk a bit, but your still nearby.” Rumple looked to Belle for affirmation that this was what she wanted. She squeezed his hand and nodded. Rumple sighed and stood up. “I’ll go start the tea.”

Archie’s voice was calm and quiet, “I want you to know that I’m always available if you want to talk about anything, but you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to or feel you can’t.” Belle nodded. Archie continued, “You’ve experienced a lot of trauma in your life and there are going to be lasting effects. Just like physical wounds leave scars, emotional wounds leave lasting effects that we must learn to deal with. We must learn to recognize our emotions and allow ourselves to feel them. So for today, I want to help you plan ahead for ways that you can take back control when you feel like you’ve lost it. Have there been nightmares?” Belle wiped her eyes and nodded. Archie nodded back, “That’s normal and nothing to be ashamed of. Now I want you to try to recall how you felt when you awoke from your nightmare. Try to focus just on the feelings, both physical and emotional. Then I want you to think about what might help you deal with them.” Belle considered silently. 

Archie could see her struggling to think of anything. “Would being held help?”

Belle shook her head. “I… sometimes I like it, but my nightmares make me feel trapped and I want space.” Archie nodded and made a note in his small pocket memo pad. “What else do you want?” Belle sucked on her bottom lip, “It can’t be dark. I want to feel safe, but I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how to feel safe.”

Archie nodded. “We’ll get there. I want you to know that you are in control of your body. Tell yourself that. When you have a nightmare, a panic attack, when strong emotions bubble up, do what you feel you need to do to feel okay. Tell Rumple what you want him to do. We both are here for you to support and help you, but we want you to be the boss.”

Rumple returned and sat down a tray with three cups of tea, sugar, and milk. The three of them began to enjoy their cups. Archie sat down his cup and smiled. “Rumple, I’ve been talking to Belle about emotions and that it’s okay to have them and let ourselves experience them.” Rumple nodded, he and Archie had talked about the same thing on occasion. “I’ve told Belle that she should tell us what she needs when it comes to dealing with strong emotions. So Rumple, I want you to hold back when she has a nightmare or a panic attack. Ask her if she wants to be touched, or if she knows what she needs.” Rumple nodded. Archie turned his gaze to Belle, “Belle, I want you to start thinking about what things you can do that make you feel calm and happy. Meditation is helpful in being able to bring your emotions back to a state of calm.” 

Belle considered, “I don’t have to close my eyes do I?”

Archie shook his head, “If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t do it. Focus on calming your breathing, ground yourself by focusing on your surroundings or your senses… In time we will find what works for you. It could be certain sounds, a certain smell, some people find certain textures helpful, perhaps even a dog or cat might make you feel calm and happy. The most important thing right now is that you tell us what you need, even if you can’t exactly put it in words. You aren’t alone Belle.” 

Rumple turned to Belle, “I’ll always be here sweetheart. I’ll never leave you.”

Archie finished his tea. “Well, I’ll leave you two to settle in. I’m only a phone call away.”

Rumple shook his hand, “Thank you Archie.”

Archie smiled, “You’re very welcome Rumple.”

Over the next week, Belle focused on finding forms of meditation that worked for her and recognizing and making note of her triggers. Archie came by the house every day and talked with her about her discoveries and would make some suggestions as to what she might try next or how to approach different situations, and he prescribed her medication to help deal with her anxiety and PTSD. Some of her triggers were easier to combat than others. She had found early on that taking a shower was near impossible without Rumple with her. The walls of the shower and the water on her skin was too claustrophobic, too much like being buried in dirt. She found that if Rumple was with her in the shower she could bear the stress of it. 

The smell of wet dirt when she went out in the garden sometimes triggered a panic attack if she was unprepared for it, but she found that if she caught herself in time and made herself sit down and focus on the ground beneath her, the air on her skin, the sound of birds, etc. she could regain control of her breathing and the pressure in her chest would lessen. However, there were some triggers that were much harder to combat. Loud, unexpected sounds were terrible because they triggered both Belle and Rumple. A broom in the laundry room had fallen to the tile floor with a SLAP that had both Belle and Rumple cowering in the floor. Archie had suggested that at times like that, they should try to be each other’s life line by encouraging each other to name something they see, feel, smell. 

One of the medications that Archie prescribed helped Belle to sleep more soundly, and Belle had discovered an ambient noises app for her phone that was immensely helpful in keeping the nightmares at bay. Belle found that the sound of crickets and the feel of a breeze made it easier for her to calm her mind enough to fall asleep. 

On one of Archie’s visits he suggested that Belle take up a hobby as a way to feel empowered and proficient. Belle’s eyes had immediately twinkled at the suggestion. Rumple had noticed it at once and raised an eyebrow. After Archie had left Belle was practically bouncing up and down. “Rumple, teach me potions.” Rumple considered. Belle watched his face for a moment before deciding he was taking too long so she fluttered her lashes and begged, “Pleeeeeeease!” Rumple sighed, a small smile creeping upon his face. “Alright sweetheart.” Belle squeed in delight as she threw her arms around his neck and held him. Rumple closed his eyes and held her back, sighing happily that at least for that moment they were together and happy. 

Together, Belle and Rumple had been making great strides in regaining a sense of normalcy to their lives. However, Belle still did not feel ready to go into town and see people let alone try to explain why she’s suddenly back. Rumple had no problem with this, and he told her that she didn’t owe anything to anyone. Belle considered his words over the next few days. She was caught off guard by them. She didn’t owe anyone anything… She realized now that she had always felt like she owed something to someone. She owed obedience to her father, she owed help to anyone who came asking for it; but didn’t they owe her? No one had been there to comfort her and Neal when Rumple died. No one would help them to resurrect him. When Zelena took him captive the heroes had told her that his captivity was not a priority. Yet when they had decided they needed his help, she was right there at their service. She still shuddered at the memory of him spinning away in that cage in what had once been their home. She had wanted to save him then, to hold him close and comfort him. The heroes had told her that they must leave him. They hadn’t even tried. She thought back to Snow’s words. She had said that all that Rumple had suffered was nothing that can’t be undone. As if the trauma, the torture, the terror didn’t matter. She should have known better, but… Belle gasped as realization hit her. All those years… every moment she was tortured, imprisoned, manipulated, hurt, used by Regina, by Hook… she had been telling herself that it didn’t matter because that’s the way everyone made her feel… like it didn’t matter. But it did matter! Losing Rumple mattered! Losing Bae mattered! They were her only family and when she had lost them both everyone acted as if getting them back, as if saving Rumple from Zelena didn’t matter as much as their problems. 

At that moment there was an urgent knock on the door. Belle answered it to find an out of breath Archie. She let him in and shut the door. “Archie, what’s wrong?”  
Rumple had heard the knock and had just come in from his office where he had been researching the binding spell. “What’s happened?”  
Archie sighed, “Clark knew about Belle being back because he’s the pharmacist and I needed him to fill her prescriptions, but I swore him to secrecy. But apparently Snow noticed Belle’s name on a bottle when she was in there and Clark cracked under the pressure. Clark called me as soon as it happened because knowing Snow the whole town will have heard about it by sundown.”

There was another knock on the door. Rumple looked to Belle. Belle sighed, “Go see who it is.” Rumple nodded. He went to the door and opened it to reveal Regina.

“So, I hear you can raise the dead now.” Regina’s voice was coy, but cautious. He could tell that she hadn’t made up her mind yet if the rumors she had heard were to be believed. 

Rumple shook his head. “You heard wrong.”

Regina inclined her head slightly. “So that’s not your dead wife standing behind you?”

Rumple was about to snarl back a response, but Belle beat him to it. 

“His dead wife isn’t allowed in the house.”

Regina didn’t seem to know what to say to that. She simply gaped at Belle.  
Rumple whispered, “You may want to close your mouth dearie, before a fly goes in it.” 

Regina swallowed. “Belle… I’m glad to see you’re…” Belle couldn’t hide the annoyance and anger on her face, but she tried to keep it out of her voice. “You need to leave Regina.”

That seemed to catch her off guard. Regina startled, “Excuse me?” 

Rumple stepped between them. “You heard my wife.”

Belle placed a hand on Rumple’s shoulder. “No. She asked a question whether she expected it answered or not, I intend to answer it.” She turned to Regina and looked her dead in the eye. “Regina, I have suffered at your hand. You’ve manipulated me, used me, imprisoned me, tortured me; and while I don’t hold any ill will towards you, I don’t want to see you.”  
Regina seemed upset by Belle’s words. “I’ve changed. I’m not the women that I used to be.” Belle shook her head and sighed. “You say that as if it erases all the wrongs you’ve done. The trauma and pain that you caused me matters! It matters! Yet you, the Charmings, Emma… you all act as if I should just move on and forget it all because you’ve changed. Well trauma doesn’t work that way.”

Regina sighed, “But I’m not that person any more. I wouldn’t do those things to you now.”

Belle laughed harshly. “You are so egocentric.” She sighed. “That’s it… that’s the problem, none of you are capable of empathy. Huh… so that’s why you all always acted like my problems were insignificant.”

Regina became angry at Belle’s words, “I’m not egocentric. If I was I wouldn’t be a good mother to Henry, and I am a good mother.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “You’re a good mother to Henry because you love him and losing him would hurt you. But you don’t care about me so you have no problem hurting me or with holding aid from me if I was in need.”

Regina shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

Belle tilted her head thoughtfully, “I don’t think I am, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Wait here.” 

Belle left the room for a moment and returned with a small glass bottle with a round body and a corked, narrow neck. She held the bottle up for all to see. It appeared to hold an emerald green liquid. “This is a bottle of distilled Truth. Now as you may or may not know, truth does not react well in the presence of lies. The bigger the lie, the bigger the reaction.”

Regina looked at the bottle warily. “I’m not drinking that.”

Belle shrugged, “I didn’t ask you to. However, I would like for you to hold it.”

Regina looked at the bottle in Belle’s hand and then reached out and took the bottle in to her own. 

Belle sighed, “Now then, think about your answers completely before you speak them. If tomorrow there was some great problem that you wanted my husband’s help with and he told you no, would you then come to me and ask me to get him to say yes?”

Regina sighed. “Yes.”

Belle nodded. “Now imagine that I have told you that no I will not try to convince my husband to help you with your problem and that I want you to leave. What do you do?”

The emerald liquid in the bottle began to churn in Regina’s hand. She seemed to hesitate for a moment.  
Belle took notice. “Perhaps that’s too difficult of a question for you. Here’s a more direct one. If given the opportunity in this imagined time of need, would you use the dark one dagger to force my husband to help you?”

Regina kept quiet, but her eyes made it obvious that the answer was yes. 

Belle continued, “Is there ever a situation where you would be willing to rip my heart out and use it and me against my husband?”

Regina huffed and tried to avoid looking at Belle as she answered, “I wouldn’t do that.”

The change in the liquid was instantaneous. It turned a crimson red and swirled violently against the sides of the bottle’s interior. Regina yelped and hissed in pain as she threw the bottle into the air. Belle caught it and the liquid within immediately calmed and returned to an iridescent emerald green color. Regina held her severely burned hand to her chest with a look of surprised horror on her face.  
Belle simply looked at her. She wasn’t concerned for Regina’s hand or what she might think of her now. In that moment Belle just felt anger. Anger at the proof before her that her revelation about Regina and the others was the truth. She narrowed her eyes, “Get out.”

Regina was dumbstruck. She turned and quickly left the house. 

Archie side stepped to the door. “I’m going to go too. Call me if you need to talk.” And with that said he left as well. Rumple shut the door after him and locked it. He then turned and before Belle could react he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” He loosened his grip and saw that she looked unhappy. He let go of her and backed away. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have asked if I could hug you first.” Belle had been off in her own thoughts and only now seemed to see him. Her face softened into a smile. “You don’t need to ask me first. If it bothers me, I’ll tell you.” She reached out and took his hand. “I was just lost in thought.”

Rumple nodded his understanding and then let himself be led into the front room. Belle motioned to the couch with a look as she released his hand and he followed her lead and sat. He watched as she placed the bottle back in the wooden potion chest that he had gifted her. She then turned to face him, intending to take a seat beside him, and paused as she saw the brilliant smile on his face. “What?” she asked playfully. 

He beamed as he replied, “You were able to successfully distill Truth.”

Now Belle was not only smiling, but blushing as well. She shrugged, “It was easy.”

Rumple chuckled as he pulled her down into his lap. “For you perhaps, but I never found it to be so.” 

Belle sighed as she rested her head on top of his. “It requires absolute honesty. I hadn’t thought that would be difficult at first; but as I worked on it I realized that as honest as I thought I was, I had been lying to myself about a great many things. And I decided that I wasn’t going to lie to myself anymore. I’m going to try to see the whole picture from now on.” Rumple tilted his head up to look at her. He whispered, “And what do you see right now?” Belle smiled down at him. “I see the person I love the most; the person who loves me the most.” Rumple smiled, his eyes becoming misty. “That’s what I see too.”


End file.
